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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103162">In Bloom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunny_witch/pseuds/Twitchy%20witchy%20bunny'>Twitchy witchy bunny (Bunny_witch)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Blood and Gore, Crime, I havent written in a hot minute so don't hate me, Maybe some zest later, Mystery, Slow Burn, Suspense, Thriller, True Crime, Violence, criminal minds - Freeform, graphic depictions of crime scenes, mental health</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:08:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,293</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103162</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunny_witch/pseuds/Twitchy%20witchy%20bunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Where flowers struggle to grow in shade, weeds thrive in their place. Yet in the worst circumstances, you find Spencer Reid... only thing is, does this apply for what lies ahead of you both?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. uprooting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Drop the gun, now!” Morgan shouts. The man trembles, his hand clamming up as it grips the colt .45. His lips quiver as sweat rolls off his heated face and onto the woman he has at gunpoint. “David, this isn’t what your sister would’ve wanted… let her go.” JJ pleads. “No… no, but-” His voice cracks beneath the thickness of his breathing. “David…” Spencer softly speaks, hands raised in defense. “She didn’t deserve it… she should be here, I should be here with her.” “But you’re not…” Spencer pushes. He tries to hold eye contact with the gunman, strongly fighting the urge to give a look of reassurance to the trapped young woman. </p><p>“She is gone, David. But that woman in your arms…” he finally looks at her. “She isn’t enough to replace Carissa.” He finishes. The man’s eyes are wide, unable to even  blink at his words. “Let her go…” The man sharply inhales, taking an extra moment to collect himself before dropping the gun. Morgan snatches the woman from his grip, racing her away from the scene as Hotch swiftly locks the man in cuffs. </p><p>Spencer closes his eyes, exhaling at the tension release. JJ sighs, gripping Spencer’s shoulder while rubbing her throbbing head. “You did good.” She breathes. Spencer nods, knowing she wasn’t only referring to him. They had nearly pushed the deadline on this case, nudging the five day mark. Spencer somewhat blamed himself for the delay, even if it really was out of his control. The unsub became erratic at the last moment, making his work sloppy, but speedy. It made him easier to find, but harder to catch in time.</p><p>It wasn’t his fault… he just needed to remember that.</p><p>__________</p><p>Garcia groans, an icepack to her head as she stirs away at her cup of coffee. Morgan grins, gently placing two little red pills by her mug. Garcia gasps, smiling as she grabs them up. “You’re an angel.” She moans. “Only for you, mama.” He chuckles as she downs the pain relievers. “Still got the goose egg?” Prentiss asks, leaning forward in her chair. Garcia nods, taking another sip. “I am telling you, that shelf did it on purpose.” She gripes with laced laughter.</p><p>“Are you saying the shelf was an accomplice?” JJ teases, leaning on Emily’s desk. Penelope only waves her hand in response before sliding on her vibrant glasses. JJ’s soft smile begins to falter when she turns to see Reid in Hotch's office. “It’s been a while.” Morgan answers. “You know what it’s about?” Emily asks, straightening her posture. Morgan shrugs, “Beats me.” “You think it’s about the last case?” JJ asks. </p><p>No one is able to respond, only allowing the theories to build in the profilers’ heads. </p><p>“But like I said-” “No, Spencer. Take what you said, and toss it. You didn’t do anything wrong.” “I thought it was a paternal connection. With the string of affairs, I assumed too quickly and it threw the case.” Spencer urges, hands unable to remain still at the impact of his speech. “A theory we all agreed upon before acting on it. We are a team, Spencer. Anything we do is based on a mutual agreement among all of us. We all came to that decision before following it, the blame is not on you simply because you were the first to say what we all thought.” Hotch takes the brief moment of silence to allow his words to settle with the doctor. He begins to stand up from his chair. “But, hotch-” “Dr. Reid.” He deadpans. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut. The silence resumes after the stern tone. Spencer looks down, swallowing the tightness in his throat, submitting to the words of his higher up. </p><p>Hotch sighs as he looks down at his vibrating phone. “This discussion is over. We have another case.” He flatly states before taking his leave. Spencer can only watch as he leaves the office, leaving him standing there alone with his thoughts. </p><p>-</p><p>“What’ve we got?” Rossi muses, slouched in his chair with sly sophistication to his relaxed demeanor. Penelope hustles to the large screen at the end of the table, composing herself before using her clicker to display the images. “Just when Florida couldn’t get any weirder.” She begins. Graphic images of mutilated bodies pop up on the blue screen. “A group of boy scouts happened to stumble into the wrong side of the woods, and discovered this pit of bodies…” Garcia takes a moment to breathe, doing her best to shove away the thought of those children taking in the sight. </p><p>“I’m sorry, pit?” JJ repeats. Penelope nods, “My reaction exactly.” “The bodies are all at different stages of decay, some older than others.” Emily notes, looking over her copy of the case file. “And no missing persons for the vics?” Rossi asks. “All are off-the-books, prostitutes and homeless.” </p><p>“The unsub is targeting seemingly ‘nobodies’, people that would go unnoticed. They aren’t directly going for a pattern of people outside of that, The vics are all varying in ages and race.” Spenser adds, making his way to the table. Everyone subtly watches him take his seat, avoiding the thick tension of him being ‘sent to the principal’s office’. “Any update from the coroner?” Rossi suggests as Penelope slides Spencer his own copy. “They are currently performing autopsies as we speak, but because of how many bodies and how some are more damaged than others…” “It’s going to take time.” Hotch finalizes.</p><p> </p><p>“Wheels up in thirty.” </p><p>_________</p><p> </p><p>Your hands clammed up, the phone barely hanging on to your grip as you feel yourself fall into a vertigo. “(Y/N), would you be able to come in and identify the body?” You inhale through your nose, exhaling lowley through your trembling lips as tears pooled below them. “Yes.” You utter. The voice on the line pauses before responding, “Now, we do recommend bringing along support, this is a very tough and daunting task to do.” You shake your head, dropping to sit on your desk. “I-I understand.” You force out. </p><p>“Before you go-um…” a hiccup slips through your silent sob as you stare off into nothing. “Have… have they found-” “No, we will notify you if we are able to discover the missing parts.” you nod, hanging up with a brief thank you. Finally, you let the phone drop from your hand, and you quickly cup your face to shield your sobs. Your dorm was dim, only lit by the afternoon sun. You did your best to control your sobs, attempting to hide your mourning from nosy girls on your floor. But you needed to let yourself mourn. </p><p>You understand why you were the only available relative they could reach, but as terrible as it sounds, you wish they didn’t contact you. Make no mistake, even though it had been years since you last spoke to your distant sibling, they were still family. You didn’t even know if you had the strength to identify their lifeless body… the mere idea gave you a wave of chills and queasiness. You could only hold yourself as you rocked through the heavy sobs alone.</p><p>__</p><p>“Thank you for coming.” the examiner begins. Spencer nods, slipping on clean gloves as Morgan takes the clipboard of info. “So what’re we looking at?” He asks. “Well, working with what I had, I was able to recognize typical signs of suffocation: petechial hemorrhages, carbon dioxide in the blood.” Spencer begins to carefully look over the body. “There are abrasions along the entire back of her legs and buttocks like she’d been dragged.” He notices. “Another thing, there was soil lodged in her throat and lungs.” The woman adds. </p><p>Spencer’s eyes drift up to her, “She was buried alive?” She gives a subtle nod before picking up her forceps. “Did any of the other bodies have similar patterns to her?” Morgan asks. “The ones that I could tell, all had soil in their lungs. Similar cuts and abrasions on the skin.” “They are being dragged to their burial.” Morgan notes.</p><p>“Was there any drugs or alcohol in their system?” She shakes her head at the young doctor, “From what I could find, none. They were all clean.” “That’s not typical of average homeless and sex worker vics.” Morgan taps the clipboard on the raised desk as he too looks over the body. “There is one stand out thing from this body from the others.” The coroner speaks up. Spencer’s eyes follow hers to the hands of the corpse. “Offensive wounds.” He states. “She skinned her knuckles nearly raw trying to fight this perp off, but in the process, managed to collect some breadcrumbs in her wound.” </p><p>She uses the forceps to peel away some of the ripped flesh. “More soil?” Morgan asks. “Yeah, but it’s what chemicals were found in the soil.” She hums. “Traces of ammonium nonanoate.” </p><p>“So our unsub is a gardener.” Spenser sighs. “Time to call Garcia.” Morgan states, swiping their copy of the examiners’ report before leaving. Spencer follows his partner out, quickly trying to replay the new info back in his head. “Mama’s here.” Garcia purrs. “Hey hot stuff, can you get a list of all gardeners, greenhouses, lawn care services near the campsite?” She hisses through her teeth, punching in her data, “Might be too broad of a request.” she pouts.</p><p>“Our unsub is working alone, since the bodies are being dragged and not carried. The bruisings around the vics wrists were smaller, so we are possibly looking at a woman unsub.” Spencer pitches. “That helps just a bit more, i’ll shoot you what I can.” Penelope sighs. “You're the best, baby girl.” Morgan ends the phone call, looking back at Spencer. He could easily catch the wavering tone of his statement. “That was a good catch, Reid.” He assures. Spencer only gives a partial nod, “Glad I could help.”</p><p>Insecurity wasn’t a common thing to see in Spencer, he was always very confident about his connections and theories. But as confident as he was, Morgan also knew that Spencer likes to take his time when processing things, so time is what he would offer.</p><p>_</p><p>The two men enter the pit of agents, approaching their group. “How did it go with the crime scene?” Morgan asks. “Horrific.” Emily sighs. “The pit was somewhat shallow for a grave of multiples.” JJ chimes in. “No traces of that chemical in the dirt there, either.”</p><p>“So, that confirms the secondary location. They are being dragged from this garden to the body dump.” Morgan repeats. “The shallow grave indicates that this sight isn’t the burial. It’s possible they are being buried first before being dumped into the pit.” Spencer ponders, b-lining to the white board set up. “So the pit was just a compost of sorts?” Emily asks. “So the true burial must be at the garden, they are being used to fulfill a purpose. Once their purpose is expired, they are thrown away.” JJ clarifies. </p><p>Everyone begins to collect their things, herding to the discussion room. As they all continue to theorize amongst themselves, Spencer stops right at the doorway. “I’m going to excuse myself for a moment.” He notes to Morgan, nodding his head in the direction of the bathroom. Morgan gives a look of understanding before continuing his conversation. Spencer speed walks to the men’s room, slipping by the man exiting the restroom. He books it to the first open stall, taking the extra second to close and lock the door before resting his back against the adjacent stall wall. </p><p>His eyes close, counting his breaths as he tries to ease out of his sudden anxiety spell. He never gets this flustered over a minor mistake. </p><p>But that was the thing, it wasn’t a minor mistake to him. His misleading theory is what made the BAU waste a day and put the victim at more risk, she had to endure more torture that easily could’ve been prevented if he had just… </p><p>He exhales sharply, finally able to control his messy thoughts and collect his poise. Spencer clears his throat, exting the stall and calmly approaching the sink. He thoroughly washes his hands before cupping a small bit of cold water to rub on his face. He dabbed his skin dry, looking at his reflection. He watched himself stand up straighter, relax his shoulders, unclench his jaw, and rest his tongue from pressing against the roof of his mouth. </p><p>And just like that, he was back in business. </p><p>-</p><p>You enter the building, your chest tightening as the images of your deceased sister flash in your head. You weren’t at all ready to see her like that. Her face whiter than snow, lips blue and hair gnatted like tangled hay. She was nearly unrecognizable… Thank god you showed up, then.</p><p>You calmly breathe, trying to gather yourself up once again before having to nose dive into yet another heated situation. Almost immediately after identifying her body, you were asked to come in and answer some questions to help the BAU profilers build a potential lead for the victims. So a ‘show and tell’ day in the worst possible way. </p><p>As you stride to the office you were directed toward, you felt your legs begin to numb. The burn of acid reflux in your throat sends chills down your back. The sensation of panic began to wash over you, the moment being all too much. As an agent passes by, you gently reach out to them, “Excuse me, where are the restrooms?” You nearly whisper. The polite woman nods to the area only a few steps ahead. “Thank you.” You breathe.</p><p>You hustle your way, allowing the panicked breathing to set in as you rush. The second your feet cross the line from being a public space to private area, you release a hefty sigh. A crack in your voice as you whimper. “Hello?” You snap your head in the direction of the soft male voice. You still, face flushing at the presence of a man. “Oh-oh god, sorry, I must’ve walked into the wrong one.”  </p><p>Spencer gives a partial smile, an expression of pity painted clearly on his face as he gives a soft headshake. “It’s all good, the women’s room is right around the corner.” You nod at his kind directions, raising your shoulders to hopefully hide your face from any more potential shame. Spencer watches you leave, easily detecting the distress radiating off of you. “Ma’am-” He calls out, shuffling out behind you. </p><p>You wince at his voice, fearing your humiliation is about to skyrocket even higher. “Mhmn?” You turn your head, but hyperfocus your eyes on the ground. “Is everything alright?” He asks, quickly moving to step beside you. You click your tongue, taking a breath before answering, “Yes, thank you for the concern… just a very long day.” You respond honestly. Spencer furrows his brows, tightening his lips at the unfortunate answer. “If it would help, I could help you find who you’re looking for.” “How do you know i’m looking for someone?” You ask, finally making eye contact. “Well, a moment ago you were meaning to use the restroom but instead of walking into the womens, you wondered off.” </p><p>You finally stop moving, “Is it that obvious i’m lost?” You ask. Spencer shrugs, giving an unconvincing face “Oh-oh no, I’m just really good at reading people.” He dismisses, trying to dodge the fact you obviously had no idea where you were going. </p><p>“I was called here to help give some information and answer some questions about my sister, she was involved in a case I think you all are working on…” You squint to read his tag, “Doctor.” Spencer smiles softly at the acknowledgement, but nods at the circumstance. “I can walk you to the room you’re looking for.” He answers. Spencer walks on with his hands in his pockets, a relaxed stride as he guides you on. </p><p>You couldn’t help but feel safe around him, something about how he carried himself. Doctor though? You looked his face over and… he looked so young for such a profession. His cheeks were soft, just barely exposing any cheekbone. The only sharpness or edge to his features was his squared jawline, which was nearly shielded by the lengthy strands of tousled hair. </p><p>Your face heats at the realization that you may have been staring. Spencer looks at you, still holding his gentle smile, “Here we are.” He looks away to talk to some of his coworkers. The sudden reality of what's going on hits you like a train, instantly shattering your distracted thoughts about the young doctor. </p><p>“Ms. (Y/L/N), I’m agent Morgan, I am going to be conducting your interview.” his voice echoes in your ears, a gentle ringing humming behind it. “Is there anything I can get for you before we start?” He asks. You feel your body chill all while the sweating picks up. The panic you managed to put off is finally setting in, and you skipped your bathroom break to let it out. Morgan approaches you, brows twisted in concern. His lips move, but the ringing in your ears mutes him out. </p><p>You feel the doctor’s hand press on your back. He leans down to look at you, a matched look of concern. Spencer too starts talking with no sound. You can feel your chest rapidly moving, but cannot feel yourself breathing (even though you were nearly panting). You had to say something, let them know this is all too much and the panic is just hitting hard. Say. Something.</p><p>“I-I don’t… I’m.. numb.” Is all you manage to slur out before vertigo hits and you swiftly black out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. planning the garden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>i'm just gonna be straight with everyone, my grammar is trash so pls forgive it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your hand tingles, tempting to go numb at the cold press of the icepack on your head. Morgan sets down bottled water in front of you. “You sure you don’t need anything to snack on? You nearly took a nasty fall.” He asks calmy, taking the seat at the other end of the table. You shake your head, flinching at the throbbing ache. “I’m so sorry about that…” You begin. Morgan shakes his head, holding a hand up, “It’s all good, we understand this is a lot to ask from someone. You’re braving through it and didn’t think to pace yourself. This is a lot to take in… are you sure you don’t have anyone we can contact?” You suck on your bottom lip, poorly attempting to control your jagged breathing. “No… Our parents are in Egypt, it’s been hard to contact them for anything” Not that they would want the contact. </p><p>“So…” Morgan ponders. “Washington?” You nod, giving a pitiful aired laugh, “Better than Indiana, right?” You lightheartedly tease. He gives a short smile before looking back at your paperwork and files. “How did your sister go from living middle class in Washington, to being homeless in Florida?” </p><p>You shrug at his question, pulling the icepack away from your head. “She had a pretty messy fight with our parents. She was into partying and all kinds of wild things, caused countless late night arguments. One day, we all woke up to a note and her cellphone. What I assumed, from her occasional payphone calls, she wanted to be somewhere she’d feel accepted and allowed to try these things without judgement.” You chew on your cheek, thumbs mindlessly rubbing the waterbottle’s paper label. </p><p>“Our last call was nearly a year ago. She broke her sobriety stride and felt ashamed.” “Alcohol?” He assumes. “Uppers, mainly.” You correct. Morgan taps a hand on the table in thought. “Was she an avid user?” “She was clean for a good three months. Aside from that, she was using every chance she had, from what I understood.” Morgan leans forward, attempting to come off as relaxed and controlled. Unfortunately, you were able to read the concern in his eyes.</p><p>“Your sister was clean, when we did the autopsy. There were no drugs in her system. Is it possible she was sobering up and just missed the phone call?” You shake your head, “I was her accountability partner. She called every time she thought she was getting clean.” Morgan jots down some notes. </p><p>“Were there any people you could think of that there were issues with? Any enemies, owed debts…” He further presses. “No, none. It still shocks me that she wound up homeless, she’s very stubborn and headstrong, great resources and people willing to help.” “It may have been pride that kept her from seeking help.” He notes. You sharply inhale, relaxing into your seat. “Yeah, that sounds about right…” </p><p>“Is there anything you think that might help us in finding this unsub? Anything else that was unusual or stand out with your sister?” </p><p>You stare off in thought, trying to remember any bit of memory you could. All you could give was a ‘no’, unable to come up with any further useful information. Morgan nods, thanking you before helping escort you out of the room. “Now, Ms. (Y/L/N), we do ask you to stay close during this investigation. But, please remember to take time to cope and reach out for help when you need it.” Morgan hands you a card with multiple phone numbers. “Give us a call if anything comes up, alright?” </p><p>You smile, “Thank you for your help, Agent Morgan.” He shares the smile, watching you walk away to the exit. When you feel his eyes leave you, you release the hefty breath you didn’t know you were holding. You shutter off the last of the cold sweats from the panic. You didn’t remember much from when you fainted, just blurs. You know someone caught you, they immediately began trying to help you while people crowded… but their face is far too blurry.</p><p>You finally leave the last set of doors, stepping outside into the free world. The sun shines just too bright, sending you into another headache. “God…” you hiss. You take multiple chugs of the bottled water, heavy breaths through your nose as you re-hydrate. “Ma’am?” you turn at the voice, seeing a rugged man in Bahama shorts and a loose button up. “Would you mind telling me where the nearest hardware store is? A home depot, Walmart even-” You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I’m not from around here.” He looks at you, mouth still hanging open from his words. “Ah… alright. Sorry to waste your time, ma’am.” you kindly dismiss him before walking on to hail a taxi.</p><p>Not noticing how the man’s eyes were following you the entire time. </p><p>-</p><p>“All the victims are from out of state. None are local.” Morgan notifies. “So we are looking at someone who is targeting tourists.” Hotch nods. “So we are looking for someone who’s native to the area. We may be looking for a male, mid to late thirties.” Rossi chimes in. “All we are missing is location and motive.” “(Y/N) said her sister was using again, but all the bodies that were able to be tested were clean.” Morgan sighs.</p><p>“This isn’t the first time we’ve had an unsub that would rehabilitate their victims to help perfect their plans. Unsub may be a psychopath with a god complex.” “Why do they need to be clean to be buried?” Emily asks, running fingers through her hair. “Maybe it’s for the purpose of being buried. The unsub may think that cleansing them and making them pure makes them a good sacrifice of sorts.” Spencer muses.</p><p>“So we think it’s a religious angle?” JJ asks. “The dirt is specific. They are being buried alive in soil that is taken care of. We already discussed how the pit is just a dump site for when the bodies have completed their use. The significance is that they are still alive when being buried. Possibly giving their life to the earth.” He continues.</p><p>“So the unsub has more than a green thumb, he may be a tree hugger.” Rossi adds. “So we should be looking more into community groups. People who have access to a greenhouse or botanical garden. There is no way a small scale garden is being used to hide bodies.” Hotch states.</p><p>_</p><p>You continue to tap through the old photos on your laptop, half lidded eyes as you watch the old images of you and your late sister scroll by. The ache in your gut was powerful, strong enough to make you wonder if this was all truly your fault. Your phone beeps, illuminating your dark hotel room. It was just another text from yet another classmate sending condolences. </p><p>You bite your lip, refocusing on the pictures. Memories hummed in the back of your head at all the good times… times where she was breathing, smiling, blushing, and singing. Times she wasn’t a lifeless corpse on a cold autopsy table. </p><p>You swiftly shut your laptop, no longer able to process it. “Why didn’t she just come home…” you whisper to yourself. As you rub your face in distress, a sudden memory hits you. As quickly as you shut it, you reopen the laptop. You hurry to open up old emails, finding the one sent from your sister from the library computer. It was around her first day in Florida, she couldn’t stop going on about all of her new discoveries and opportunities. </p><p>“(Y/N), I really wish you would’ve come. It’s so much nicer here. It isn’t constantly raining, the air isn’t muggy and I have yet to hear a grey’s anatomy reference on the street. I’m finding people I can trust, people I can truly be myself around. What I wouldn’t give for you to be here with me. I’ve been clean for a solid three days, sure, it’s because of the travel laws… but it’s still clean! I’ll try to send some pics when I have my first meeting with the group I joined. No, it’s not a cult. We are really trying to help make a difference in the world, by keeping mother earth clean and bountiful. Miss you bunches.”</p><p>It didn’t seem like much, she was always trying new things. She never emailed again after that, but the phone calls always consisted of new things she was trying. The ‘mother earth’ crowd never came up again. But nonetheless, it was still information. </p><p>You pull out the card you were given, reading down the names and numbers with extensions. You see agent Morgan’s name and begin to dial the station, but once the extension comes up, you feel your eyes drift to a more familiar name.</p><p>You decide to enter in that extension instead.</p><p>Spencer slightly jumps at the sound of his phone ringing at his temporary work station. “Doctor Spencer Reid with the FBI BAU.” You feel your heart skip, not entirely expecting him to truly pick up. “Oh- um, hey. This is (y/n) (y/l/n), I think I might have some information that may be helpful… I don’t know if it is or not though, but-” “No no, anything helps. Let me put you on hold for one moment.” He nearly yells in excitement. You smile as the subtle elevator music plays over the hold. </p><p>Spencer rushes over to the herd, instantly gaining their attention. “I’m on a call with (y/n), She said she might’ve gotten some useful info.” He announces. Hotch nods, “Spencer and JJ, go see what it’s about. We should let her be in a controlled environment when discussing this case from here on.” “Got it!” JJ responds, tagging along behind Spencer. He picks the line back up, cutting your hold song, “Would you mind giving us your current address?” </p><p>-</p><p>You stand by the printer with Spencer as JJ flips through photos. “I’m sorry if this isn’t very useful.” You pout. “No, actually, it helps to know she was a part of some group. It helps build the profile of the unsub.” He assures. You give a weak smile, shyly looking away. Spencer sighs, crossing his arms. “You know, you’re really tough to be taking this all on alone. A lot of people need support in order to help process this level of trauma.” “Thank you, but, maybe that’s why not so many people are passing out in police stations.” </p><p>He gives a gentle chuckle, “But we’ve seen worse.” You smile at his working efforts to cheer you up. JJ only grins to herself as she overhears the conversation. </p><p>“Really?” you ask. Spencer smiles, leaning against your tall bookshelf, “Oh yeah, we’ve seen a bit-” Books fall as he bumps into the shelf a bit too hard “Oh-” He quickly tries to grab them up, put them away, and play it off. “Quite… a bit…” he breathes, restraining a strong urge to cringe at his awkward display.</p><p>He snaps his eyes to JJ when a small snicker slips her lips. Heat burning in his face and ears at the humiliation. You have to look away for a moment to hide your similar restraint from giggling, but it only results in an awkward drift between you both. “Well.” JJ cuts in, “If you two are done with small talk, I think we got everything we need. Thank you, Ms. (Y/L/N)” “You can call me (Y/N).” You smile, glancing at Reid. He returns the grin, his heated cheeks shying to a more pink shade. </p><p>You walk them down, holding the door as both Reid and JJ leave. JJ waves to you, making her way to the car. Spencer decides to linger, stopping before backpedaling to see you. “If you happen upon anything else, don’t shy from calling. Anything helps.” You cross your arms, coy yet intrigued by his words. “Thank you doctor.” “Spencer, if you don’t mind.” His thin lips line into a smirk. His demeanor shifts, more courage in his posture since there is no risk of falling books nearby. You carefully caress your hair behind your ears, shoulders raising slightly as you feel warmth bloom in your face.</p><p>Reid is finally able to pull himself away from the moment, a pep in his step as he smoothly enters the car. “So, am I going to have to chaperone your next date?” JJ sings. Spencer’s brows twist together, confusion befalling him while he faces his partner. “Don’t be so childish, I just wanted to assure her that if she came across any further information, it could possibly help. Ya know, she almost didn’t call this in. I don’t wanna discourage her from shying away-” “I got it, I got it.” JJ waves off, starting up their rental cop car. Spencer purses his lips, carefully thinking over what he was about to add next to their small talk. </p><p>“Not to mention, It would be inappropriate to-” “I got it, Spencer. Chill.” JJ groans with an exaggerated eye roll. </p><p>You lean against the door frame, watching them finally drive away. You could only then realize how heavy your heart pounded against its cage of ribs. You sigh, closing your eyes in an effort to focus on smothering the flirtatious ideations before they manifested into something stronger, like true feelings or actions. You clap your hands to your warm cheeks, blowing out steam. You were simply swoon by him, he was obviously a charming individual. You were sure this wasn’t his first rodeo with an infatuated witness or whatever you were to the case.</p><p>All you could do is just call it as it is, and move on. A simple crush.</p><p>But even though you may not have been able to see the obvious fluster you radiated, the man watching you carefully from across the street could. The same man from back at the precinct.</p>
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